The Last of the 40s

Hello Narcissus. Dave here. I'll be wallowing with you for awhile, as I reflect on a milestone in my life --I turn 50 two days from now.

I ran into an old aquaintance at the Trulucks bar the other night, Alan. Alan's an entertainment lawyer, and we used to play in a band together, back in the mid 80s. It's been so long since I even picked up my flute, I forgot I ever played. My friend Craig played drums, and had a foam coated, sound proofed room in his West Kendall townhouse. He had a CPA bud who played bass (I forget his name) and Alan played lead guitar and his wife Lisa sang lead.

I was the least talented of the group, which was saying something. We played covers of Springsteen and Neil Young. We met probably 20 times, and mercifully for the audiences of Miami, never made it out of Craig's room.

Years later, I learned that Alan returned home from a business trip, and went into his apartment to find it totally empty of all furniture and possessions, except for his clothes. He first thought it was a practical joke, but there was a "Dear Alan" letter telling him that Lisa had left him for a much richer and older lawyer. Oh well --when you marry a frustrated Chrissie Hynde, I guess that's a risk...

But anyway --back to Alan in the present (he remarried a far hotter South American lady and seems to be no worse for the wear): My friend at the bar mentioned I was turning 50. Alan's take: "That's the best age for a man. He knows who he is --good guy, asshole, or a bit of both. He realized not much more's going to change in his life --if he's a winner, he'll still win, and if he's a loser, he'll just find more creative and pathetic ways to lose. Dave --you're luckily a winner. Good for you."

I really enjoyed his complement, I must say.

And so I celebrate this weekend. I didn't want any big parties. I did that when I was 40 --had close to 100 people to Villa Wifey for a clambake. It rained, and my thoughts of DJ fueled dancing outside fizzled. There was a highlight, though --my secretaries and associate hired a plane pulling a banner to fly over and wish me a happy 40th. I stood on the balcony outside my bedroom as the plane flew over, and my family and friends gathered in the courtyard below and I felt completely and fully like Jay Gatsby.

This year, not so much. The mysterious sources of income are slowing, and I'm ratcheting down a bit.

Still, D2 is flying home this afternoon from Gainesville. I can't wait to pick her up and hug her and re live college life through her tales...

Tonight, Wifey, and Drs. Eric and Barry and Dana and Donna are taking a sunset sail out of Key Biscayne. The boat's captain, Russ Boley, is a gourmet cook, and will serve us sea bass as the sun goes down. Dr. Eric is bringing his handy martini making kit, and photo gear. We'll talk of the old times, and compare the manifold blessings of our children.

Tomorrow Wifey, the Ds, and one D boyfriend and I will go out to South Point for some steaks at Smith and Wollensky. I plan to toast them all.

It's no coincidence that my celebrations are near or on the ocean. I'm honoring my father, whose spirit is there. I try to be like him all the time. I hope I come close.

So hello 1/2 century mark. In so many ways, I still think I'm about 20 or so. Most of my friends are the same. Barry and Eric and I were all in college together then, trying to analyze and savor human nature. We still are, 3 decades later.

Although I'd like to recall a quote from a great writer or poet, somehow only Jimmy Buffet comes to mind, probably since I'm about to set sail tonight: " Good times and riches, and son of a bitches, I've seen more than I can recall."